Our Songs
by I'llCatchYouIfYouFall
Summary: She was looking for herself in a world that was once hers. He was loosing himself in a world that was never his. What happens when they collide? Love, of course. DMHG, Dramione, EWE.
1. It Will Rain

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN WHAT YOU RECOGNIZE AS ANOTHER'S. IF I DID, DRACO WOULD BE PLAYING TONGUE HOCKEY WITH HERMIONE RIGHT NOW...**

**A/N: Hi! I'm Catch =) hope you'll like it!**

It Will Rain

"Ron, I'm sorry." Hermione breathed quietly, burying her mane of hair into the redhead's chest. "I'm sorry. I really am, but I need to do this." She lifted her head, tears falling from her doe-like eyes. They landed like silver bullets on Ron's outstretched hand, reminding him that this was real. That this was not the nightmare that he thought it was. "I need to go."

"Stay," Ron said, hugging her tighter. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll be who ever you need me to be. Just... stay."

"I can't, Ron." She whispered, extricating herself from his grip. "I... I... I don't know who I am anymore."

"Yes, you do. You're Hermione. You'll always be Hermione."

"I'm not her anymore, you know. I'm not the old Hermione that you fell in love with. I'm not the old Hermione that fell in love with you." The brunette stated, the pain and confusion in her voice evident through the din of raindrops bombarding the roof. "She's gone. The war killed her. The war changed me."

"But you're still her," Ron insisted, "No matter what."

"No... I... I just... I need to leave."

"I need you, Hermione."

"No, you don't." She smiled sadly and somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, the youngest male Weasley knew that she was right. She was always right. "You've got your whole future ahead of you. I don't see mine, but you... you don't have a single bend in your road. You know what you're going to become, and what you're going to achieve. I... I don't have that."

"I don't care about the future as long as I have you in it." The redhead said, clutching her wrist tightly. "Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me, Hermione, and I promise I'll be yours forever." The redhead breathed as the brunette did a sharp intake of breath. " Marry me and I will never let you feel that way again. Just think about it. You and I, we're perfect for each other. Everyone bet on me and you before. They still do. I love you, Hermione, don't go."

"Ron." She protested as she gripped her striped blue and gray bag. It was a present from her parents; their last token. "The war left me with too much memories to cope with. I have to start making new ones. If I don't do this, there won't be a future for me."

"Is there any chance that I can be in those memories too?"

"No... I'm sorry."

The redhead did not speak. He did not move. He didn't even try to breathe. He knew that arguing with Hermione, especially when she was like this, would be futile. Besides, he knew about her dilemma – he was there when her parents died and when she suffered from the war after all.

"I hope you understand, Ron, I have to do this." Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she shook her delicate head. Ron smiled at her sadly – ruefully. It was a smile of remorse, but in it, there was already forgiveness. He loved her, and if she wanted him to let her go, he will.

Contrary to popular belief, Ron Weasley, thought lacking in the academics department, was not a total failure in sensitivity. He was ignorant, sure, but that didn't mean that he was totally so. He understood her, of course.

So when she made a move towards the door, he didn't stop her. He didn't call out to her. He didn't reach for her, even when everything in him called out to her. Sometimes, people were meant to fall in love – but sometimes, they're also meant to fall out of love.

Ron collapsed on the plush armchair, the tears finally escaping. He had wondered about this day before, he had imagined what it would feel like.

He imagined that it would crush his heart – shatter it, even. He imagined the pain, the suffering, the depression that he would go through.

And his imagination wasn't far off from reality.

His eyes, just like the gray clouds thundering outside, overflowed with tears. Tears of pain, tears of frustration, tears of loss.

After emerging as victors in the war, he had thought that they would stay together forever. That he would be with Hermione until he faced his deathbed. That he would be hers and she his until time stopped and death came. He had always believed in them. He believed that she would heal and that he would too. He thought that maybe, years after the war, he would be coming home to a house full of children. Hermione would be sitting on the porch, reading while little redheads with large brown doe-eyes ran around her, screaming happily. One of them would run up to him and call him 'Daddy' and the others would follow suit. Then Hermione would hug him and smile at him like he was 'Hogwarts a History'.

But even after a year of living together, Hermione refused to even breach the subject of marriage. She said that they weren't financially ready – but they were. He knew why she was really against the idea. Even after a year of happiness, she was still afraid that she might fall into the grasp of the sorrow of war.

And Ron Weasley fell asleep on his plush burgundy chair, tear stains still evident in his beetroot cheeks. He still had a broken heart, he still had a clouded conscience – because he thought that he could have healed her if he was better –, he still loved Hermione. But somehow, he felt that he was set free – that he wasn't chained to shackles anymore.

* * *

"Ron! Where is she? I was supposed to meet up with her yesterday for the baby shower but she didn't show!" Ginny said frantically as Ron stepped through the fireplace and into the Potters' Residence in Godric's Hollow. " I tried to call her, but she wouldn't answer."

Harry placed a hand on Ginny's bulging belly. He told her to calm down for the baby, but of course, Ginny was as stubborn as she was fiery. Finally, after being hit on the back of the head, Harry gave up and sat next to Ron, saying, "What happened, Ron?"

"Did you two fight?" Ginny said frantically, wearing a path on the carpet. "Merlin, don't tell me you became a stupid idiot again! I am so killing you after we find Hermione."

"We didn't fight, okay." Ron said quietly, his voice a little broken. "She wanted to leave."

"She wouldn't _want_ to leave if you didn't do anything!" Ginny shouted, placing her hand on her belly and looking terrifyingly alike the eldest Weasley Matriarch (Muriel died days after Victoire was born).

"That's exactly what I did!" Ron shouted more to himself than to his sister and best friend, but nevertheless, Harry placed a restraining hand on her shoulder."I did nothing. That's why she left."

"What?" Ginny said softly as she took in Ron's sobbing form.

"The war affected her more than we thought, Gin. She was hurting, and I did nothing."

"Oh, Ron." Ginny sighed as she collapsed beside her brother. "It's not your fault. We were with her too and we didn't notice. _I_ didn't notice, and _I'm _the sensitive one."

"No Gin, you weren't the one who was practically married to her. It's like I won't see the sky again." Ron said, his large hands covering his face. " You weren't the one who asked her to marry you and got rejected!"

"She... rejected you?" Ginny spluttered. "But she was looking forward to it for months now. Ever since you moved in together."

"Then why would Hermione reject Ron if she wanted that?"

"Because she was broken and she knew that in order to keep everyone happy and unsuspecting, she had to pretend. You know Hermione, she would rather handle things on her own rather than have others help." A dreamy voice said from the fireplace. Harry, Ron and Ginny simultaneously turned towards the professional looking blonde. "I came as soon as I heard,"

"Heard?" Ron said skeptically, standing up and making room for the blonde. He crossed the room and sat on a high backed dining chair. "But she only left last night. How could you have heard about it?"

"The nargles whispered it to me, of course." Luna said seriously as she held Ginny's hand. Even after all these years of being a psychiatrist, she never let go of her belief of the wizarding supernatural. "Don't worry, she'll come back. Hermione would be struggling now, but she would find a way to come back."

"But I just don't know why she wanted to keep this so secret, even from me! I mean, I read her like an open book." Ginny sobbed, looking towards the gray London sky.

"Gin, Hermione has a lot of secrets, a lot more than all of us combined. She knew that you would grieve and only burden you if you knew about how she felt. She wanted you to be happy, Gin. I think she would have continued pretending until all of you would be sufficiently absorbed in your own lives. I guess she snapped earlier than she intended."

"Luna, can we bring her back?" Harry asked seriously, gripping Ginny's other hand.

"Harry, easy on the hand."

"Sorry, Love." Harry smiled apologetically. "Now, Luna, what do you know about this?"

"All I know is that she will probably go back to her muggle origins. If she wants to find herself, she'll most likely start in the place where her earliest memory took place. It's going to be special – somewhere she will feel that another Hermione lived there. She should have to feel safe there, but it should be somewhere special, somewhere only she knows."

"Her tree house." Ginny and Harry whispered to each other, exchanging looks of question.

"No," Luna sighed. "So many of us knows already. There has to be a place where she thinks that she would feel the old Hermione. There should be a safe haven from _magic._" Luna said, sighing. Of course she felt like a failure. She was a _psychiatrist _for crying out loud! She was one of the best, but of course, Hermione had always been cunning enough to escape her notice. "Trust me, guys. This is standard behavior."

"Since when did Hermione start being standard? There has to be something... there's always something."

"Harry, this is our best lead for now. We need to take it, fast." Ginny said.

"Then where do you suggest that we find her?"

"We need to think of something. We need to look for her. We need to bring her back."

Then Ron, who had stayed eerily silent stood up from his chair and leaned towards the windows. "You know guys, back then, I thought that if I lost her, I would stop at nothing to bring her back. Because I wouldn't be able to feel the sun again and the sky won't be able to show itself to me. I thought that I would feel shackled and bound by her even when she was away, but I feel... free. You have to understand that she wouldn't do this if she knew that we wouldn't be able to take it. She wouldn't have... left if she wasn't sure that we would be able to cope."

"Ron," Harry said, turning to his best friend. He raised a dark eyebrow and stared at the redhead. "You know something."

"I do," he said softly, his eyes still lingering on the stormy clouds. "If you really want to bring her back... did she ever tell you that she plays the violin?"

"What? No!" Ginny stuttered, standing up abruptly.

"Well, she did." Ron sighed. "Didn't you ever wonder about the creepy violin sounds near the Astronomy tower? It was her."

"Where then?"

"You know perfectly well that if Hermione doesn't want to be found, she wouldn't be found."

"I know." Ginny said softly. "But we still have to try."

"Her school's auditorium. I went with her there during one of her charity concerts."

"Harry?"

"I'll just need to take my wand. Luna and I will go. Ginny, stay here and try to contact Neville and the others." Harry kissed Ginny before she opened her mouth to protest. "Stay here."

"Be careful." Said the dazed red.

"I will. Love you." And with that, Harry and Luna rushed off into the midnight air.

"Luna, are you sure about this?" Harry said as he and Luna climb up the stage steps. "She could be anywhere by now."

"She could be, but I know that she would have at least stopped by a place like this."

"Alright. You go look at the instruments. I'll check the back stage."

Luna nodded and rushed towards the old and worn objects. Harry, meanwhile, headed towards the stage doors.

Harry had never expected that Hermione would leave like this. He had always thought that she was stronger, more solid, more stable than the rest of the survivors. She had seemed impasse to him at times, but it was understandable, she had lost her parents after all. But nevertheless, her disappearance still came as a shock to him, even now as he walked through the creepy space.

"Harry! Come here for a bit! I think I found something." Luna's voice wafted through the air. Instantly, Harry bounded across costumes and trinkets and appeared beside the blonde. "It looks like a letter."

"Let's open it."

"I... can't." Luna said after a breath.

"Take off your gloves, maybe it needs to be touched by skin."

Luna pursed her lips an took her silver gloves away. Slowly, she pried open the sealed envelope and a single piece of parchment fell off. Harry bent down and read.

_Nice try, guys._

_ If you're reading this letter, I must be anywhere in the word by now and while I'm writing this, I think I'll enjoy some sun in Laos._

_ But that's not why I'm writing this letter. _

_ You have to understand that I don't want to be found. I need to look for something that's missing in my life, as cliché as that may sound. I need to look for me. I lost the old Hermione because of the war and I need to look for her. I need to see me again. I need this break. And Harry, I know that Ginny will need me, but I promise that I'll help her. _

_ Tell Ron that I loved him truly and deeply. And that sometimes, people are meant to fall in love, but not to stay in it. I know that he understands why I'm doing this. And tell him to move on. He deserves so much better in life._

_ Tell Harry – and if you're reading this – to take care of Ginny. Don't let her eat peanuts and stop making her drink chamomile tea. I love you, and I'm sorry._

_ Tell Ginny to stay calm and take care of the baby. And that I'll be there for her when the time comes. _

_ Tell Luna that I'll be back, no matter what. And don't stress on missing the fact that I was miserable – I didn't even realize it until a month ago._

_ Tell the others that I'll be fine, and not to fret. I can do this._

_ Love, _

_ Hermione_

_ P.S. Don't try looking for me anymore, it's no use. I love you all, remember that._

_P.P.S. Don't forget to feed crookshanks for me. Thanks!_

Harry sighed and reread the letter again. Luna, meanwhile, was off into dreamland again.

"I guess that we'll just have to wait for her."

**A/n: There you go! Too dramatic? Too lackluster? Too … gaaah? Tell/PM me!**

**ALSO! Before anyone attacks me and says that I'm copying another story... I'm also a resident in Wattpad under the name StarsFallToo I tried to synchronize my user names, but SFT is already taken here, and ICYIYF is loooooooong =/**

**Next update is tomorrow... ore on wednesday =)**


	2. Last Kiss

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own what J.K. Does. Also, the song I used to pull inspiration from is not mine. Don't sue me.**

**A/N: Here we go again! I put the wrong dates on the author's note last time:) Thanks, HermioneSelene11 and winterwood11 for reviewing! Hope that you'll stick with the story!**

**Schedule of Posting: Thursdays and Saturdays =)**

**Last Kiss**

Draco Malfoy looked towards the gray Italian sky. It seems to be reflecting his mood these past few weeks. He had been distraught after Astoria Greengrass left him for Theodore Nott. She left _him_ for _Nott. _Nott was not lacking in the looks department, of course, but he and his family name and his family fortune was not as abundant or humungous as the Malfoy fortune. So of course, Draco could not understand why a girl like Astoria – whom he had loved and showered with gifts – would _runaway_ with that middle class pureblood.

But of course, life was never easy on Draco. He had, after all, lived with an abusive father and a depressed mother for the better part of his 22 years.

Draco looked at the sky again and around the room. His eyes strayed on the mahogany desk which contained a clutser of letters. His eyes averted them for a moment before, once again drawn by his inexplicable need to woo the traitor back.

And then, with nothing else to do, Draco Malfoy started to write.

_ Dear Astoria,_

_ Your act of treason can be subsequently ignored and minimally punished if you come back. All you need to do is come back, and I, for one, am tired of waiting. I waited and waited and waited for you in this rabid chair for days, just waiting for you to return to me and abandon that bloody idiot. I've already written 156 – or was it 157? – unsent letters to you, and for some reason, I can't seem to give them to you. Why is that? I've wasted a mountain of ink and parchment – and I'm pretty sure that I had exhausted the Malfoy supplies about six times – , but something stops me._

_ I want you back._

_ You know, even now, almost two months after you left, I can still remember that night clearly. The look on your face was something... I hate remembering it. You were beautiful back then too. _

_ We sat on the balcony. The midnight air was crisp and chilly – I remember because you complained about it twice. Your blonde hair was up in a messy bun – something that you would never be seen in in public – and you were irritated at me for waking you. Your lips were in a slight frown and your face looked disconcerted, but your eyes showed what you really felt. You were annoyed that I woke you up at one in the morning to, as I recall you saying 'wander outside in this morbid weather to hear birds wake each other up.'. You were not the Queen of Kindness, but I was fine with it – you were the Queen of Beauty, so I didn't mind. I laughed and whispered, 'I love you,' and you smiled at me. I should have noticed your lack of reply. I should have noticed your expression – that it was not of love but of sadness, of regret, of...pity. I should have known back then that you were already turning to him. You already lost that sparkle – however cliché that may sound – in your eyes and you looked at me with that look. The patronizing look of a person who was heavy with deceit._

_ Come back._

_ I want you back._

Draco reread the letter, then deciding that it was too clingy, he chucked it into the bin with the rest of the parchment.

Actually, as much as he liked to believe, he didn't have a clue on what to do. It was always him who did the dumping, not the other way around. And he actually grew _fond_ Astoria. She was not the epitome of a perfect girlfriend, yes, but she wasn't one to pry on his business – he hated people who pried; she wasn't one to bake cakes or pastries on his birthday, but he didn't mind; she wasn't one who would rescue innocent little creatures, but he himself wasn't like that too; she wasn't one who would make him do anything, but he actually wanted that. Astoria was far from the perfect girlfriend – but in Draco's Point of view, she was _the Perfect _Malfoy Bride.

Yes, he had already thought of proposing to her, but he had decided to wait until bloody Thanksgiving. He felt as if she would be perfect for the position, even his mother wasn't adverse to it. But obviously, Narcissa had an inkling of the horrid and appalling things that Astoria did before she run off with Nott. His mother never even batted an eye when he told her the news.

He was messed up – his surroundings were a testament of his current state of mind. Astoria's perfume lingered in the air, making it stuffy and the smell was quite overpowering. Her clothes – or what was left of it – was in a burn bag. An elf was even waiting outside with a lit fire, but he couldn't bring himself to even bring the stupid bag down. Her things were strewn around – hats, shoes, shawls, everything that was _hers._

Most of the things were clothes and jewelry, things that Astoria loves showing off in parties. She really loved them, you know – the parties. Every single one of the parties we held here would involve her looking like a Greek goddess and me stuck in my study.

Draco stood up, heading towards the stack of newspapers that had accumulated during his lurking and all around sulking. It was full of crap and bull about Astoria and their relationship. But when the owl flew in this morning, it was not his sullen face that graced the cover, but rather, it had been of a very familiar girl.

He pushed the month-old old issues and looked for the new-looking one. After about five minutes of cursing himself for knocking down the pile earlier in the morning and messing up the order of the dates, he finally pulled out the paper.

The headline read : '_A THIRD OF THE GOLDEN TRIO; MISSING'. _Intrigued, he gazed at the girl and horror upon horrors fell upon him when he had realized that it was Granger. _The Hermione Granger._ The girl who beat him in every subject. The girl who managed to jab him with the sharpened stick people call wit every time they were in speaking radius. The girl who had _punched _him.

The girl, or should we say woman, on the front page picture showed a pale indifferent face. She was very pretty, with her smooth skin, soulful eyes, shapely nose and almost aristocratic semi-full lips – far from the bucktoothed, freckle-infested, scrawny face that was framed with frigid curls that he had known from school. Her hair was the most prominent change. It was a little bit straighter at the top and toned down at the bottom.

But her eyes could have passed for normal ones if Draco didn't know for certain that Hermione Granger could _never_ pull off a face of indifference. It was his pride. So something was definitely wrong with the slightly still and subtly moving picture. Then he looked at her eyes again and saw it.

There was a sadness in there... just a hint. It was laced with fury, confusion and regret. It was the eyes of a depressed person. He knew because he looked at the same type of eyes everyday in the morning when he looked into the mirror.

Quickly, he turned towards the Caption. It read;

_Hermione Jane Granger, revered Fashion photographer, owner of various bookstores in the country, and 1/3 of the Golden Trio was reported missing on November 25__th__. Reports say that she was last seen in a fight carrying numerous bags in the middle of the night near her shared apartment with Ronald Weasley and that she was heading towards muggle London... read the rest of the story on pages 5 to 7._

Then he turned to the pages and continued to read the first paragraphs.

"_Hermione Granger just needs privacy." Harry Potter, saviour and head Auror, commented to an interview from the Daily Prophet once he was asked about his long-time bestfriend's where abouts. "Hermione needs a break. She wouldn't have just disappeared without a reason. So don't you all worry. She is safe and the decision was hers to make alone."_

_ Her location is still deemed a mystery, as well as the cause for her disappearance is still unknown but sources say that she may very well be in the muggle World. The..._

Draco shook his head. It seemed that he wasn't the only onewho dealt with the disaster that other people call life.

Maybe he should follow Granger's steps, he mused. He could escape it all. He could leave behind his wretched past and find someone better than Astoria – someone he couldn't even compare her to. He wouldn't even need to work. Money would never be a problem – his bank account accumulated thousands daily. He could always buy what he would need.

It was brilliant. He could escape. The muggle world would never know who he was and they would never need to know. He could build another empire. He could runaway without being chased there.

"Milly!" He shouted. And he heard a loud pop signalling the arrival of his personal house elf. "Pack my things. We're going for a trip."

**A/n: There you go! I hope you liked it!**

**REVIEEEEWWW!**


	3. If You Ever Come Back

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Draco and his Glorious abs. And of course I don't own any of the others! **

**A/n; There are no excuses to my tardiness in this particular chapter. I'm sorry. I'll make it up, I promise ;)**

**Hope you'll like it!**

If you ever come back

Hermione Granger looked at the desolate muggle London sky. It was the same colorless gray that greeted her everyday since she bought the flat that she was currently residing in.

It had been about 11 months since she left the Magical world all together. There were things that she had to take care of, of course, but she had smoothed it all down before leaving. Her money and assets were still secure, and so was the inheritance that her parents had left her. She took some money to get settled here in muggle London, the only place that was obvious enough to hide that Harry and Ron would never turn to look at, but the amount barely made a dent to her savings. But more or less, she was living a comfortable life.

She was volunteering at various orphanages and home-for-the-aged in and around the city. It was her way of keeping busy while she figured out what to do next. She had tried to do everything she used to love, but somehow, it felt wrong because everything she used to do she did with someone she loved, so she scrapped the idea altogether.

A tapping sound pulled her out of her thoughts as she looked towards the large glass wall. Outside, Hedwig was flapping her wings and tapping impatiently at her. She chuckled at the sight but instantly her laughter ceased as she absorbed what the letter meant.

None of her friends ha written to her ever since she left. And even though she made it a point to attend every occasion – albeit disguised – no one had breached her request of patience.

So the letter must have been important.

Quickly, she stepped out into the balcony and held her hands out towards Hedwig. The owl dropped the letter and sent her a reproachful glare, as if chastising her for not saying goodbye. She sent the owl an apologetic smile and she hooted affectionately, nipping Hermione's finger before flying off.

With unmasked dread and worry, Hermione oped the letter and she saw, with a bit of relief, sadness and happiness intermingled, Ron's sloppy handwriting. Though, it was nicer than normal – which meant that he had put effort in creating this particular letter.

Hermione went inside, staring at the words but not comprehending what they said. She crashed on a bar stool before trying to comprehend her old lover's note.

_Hermione,_

_ It's been so long since we last saw each other, and I know that you specifically told me not to write, but I couldn't resist._

_ I miss you._

_ So much._

_ Do you remember that time in our third year when we were outside and Hagrid was teaching us Care of Magical Creatures? That was the first time that we met Buckbeak, and he was really all posh and polish back then. Harry, of course, was first to take him on. Well, maybe this was mainly because he didn't notice all of us stepping back._

_ That was the day that we first held hands. Well, at least the first time we did something more intimate than friendship. It had always been a secret, but until that moment, I thought that Harry was the one that you fancied. The two of you looked perfect – the knight and the princess. Who was I, a mere peasant compared to the likes of you two, to hope that you would notice me? So I sat down on the sidelines, a little proud of you, a little sad and maybe even a little envious as you two garnered more attention than I ever could. I know that you won't agree to this, but you should have seen yourself. Back then, you were the Gryffindor Princess, Harry was our Prince and I was someone who held your capes. I was the sidekick – the dumb, idiotic third wheel to the otherwise perfect couple. An of course I was jealous. I resented how Harry got everything he – or rather, I – wanted, and how you got to be so perfect without even batting an eye. And I took all that anger out on the world._

_ But that day changed everything. When you held my hand, I was shocked at how good it felt. You held it so tight that I was sure that you would have crushed it if you tightened your grip – but I didn't mind, not really. I was happy, because for the first time, I felt wanted. And being wanted, especially someone with the likes of _you_ was more than I could ever wish for. But that isn't exactly why I brought this particular memory up._

_ This whole relationship that we had for the past few years felt just like the first time that we held hands – surprising, wonderful and relishing. But you know that it was also awkward,and that we had to do it in the dark. But nonetheless, these past few years have been and still is, a roller coaster... the only difference is, that we're not riding in the same cart anymore. There were ups and downs, but we held on._

_ Also, do you remember letting go? I held on so tight, but we were both surprised that we let go. By that time, I think Buckbeak was at the point of killing Malfoy. We were both so surprised by his scream and obvious pain that you let go and rushed to his side. No, I am not jealous – though, at that time, I admit that the little green monster had been sitting on my shoulder – because I knew that you would have done the same if everyone was in a situation like that. You were always the sympathizer in our little group. Harry was too skeptical on most things to let pity reign. I was too... me._

_ But when you let go... I felt... empty. It was like the empty that you could feel with houses. Like how you would know if it was permanently vacated or just temporarily left alone. It was also like how I felt when you left... or so I thought._

_ Back then, I felt empty, yes... but not the kind of empty that was permanent, because I knew, that at the end of the day, you would be with me. That you would hold my hand again. It was as if I could sense that you would come back to me. This time... this time it felt more like a permanent emptiness. And for a time, I feared that I would fall into disrepair if you would never come back._

_ I know that it's almost been a year since you left, but your things are still here. Just how you left them. I keep them in prime condition, or the condition that I can best keep them in. They tell me that it's futile and that you yourself told them to tell me to move on. They tell me that I'm wasting my time because you weren't likely to come back... but everyone used to believe that redheads have no soul, how wrong was that? So I think that I have reason to believe that you would show up on our doorstep again someday. _

_I miss you._

_ I remember the little things that we used to do. _

_ Do you remember our fights? It would be explosive and everything would be smashed and crushed afterward. Then we would end up not talking for weeks. I hated those times. I was always desperate to talk to you. But we were bad at making up... but we always did in the end. _

_ But now... now I wish that you could still give me the silent treatment and your winter wonderland of a shoulder. I wish that you could still give me a hard time with everything. Oh admit it, you were spiteful after every fight. I miss those times – even if I did sleep on the couch on most nights during them. _

_ I miss you. I love you. I... I just want you to come back. I would accept anything that you're willing to give me. I can be a friend. I can be the person you'll tell everything to. I can be... I can be a stranger. Anything at all._

_ A girl told me that I should never do this. I would appear clingy. But I couldn't resist._

_ I'll leave the latch off the door if you ever want to come back,_

_ Ron_

Hermione sobbed as she closed the letter. This was the thing that made her stay awake all night. The thing that swayed her resolve. It had been a year but every time she remembered her friends, she was always tempted to come back. But she knew that no matter how much she would break Ron's heart, he never would convince her to come back – not at least until she found herself again.

That was just it.

She was having a hell of a time in finding herself. It was easier to convince Professor Snape – may he rest in peace – to sing Broadway style than to find the missing thing.

She shook her head and proceeded to ready herself. She would need some fresh air if she was ever going to resist visiting the Wizarding world and ruining all the progress that she had done.

Quietly, as if not to disturbed the nonexistent sleeping people, she made her way to the bathroom. Once there, she stood in front of the large ornate mirror, still shocked that the girl staring at her with equal flabbergast was herself.

The girl in the mirror had long wavy hair that reached her hips. It was not the short, bushy mane that she donned back in her youth. Its color was also off. It was lighter than she had ever remembered, almost blonde – an effect of her being outside more often than she ever had before. Her face still held the same delicate fragility, but it also held a sadness that she never dared show before. Her body was still slight and willowy, but her long days dealing with sugar-crazed children gave her the body of a girl who worked out. And she also wore contacts, blue ones, since she figured that she had changed so much that only her eyes would ever give her away if ever her friends decided to look for her.

She looked a whole new person, yes, but that never changed her personality. Her flat was neat and tidy, and only one room held chaos – the library. It was stacked with books, hundreds of them. It was in a neat disarray – just how she liked it.

She quickly splashed water at her face and pulled on a crème Cardigan sweater, navy faded jeans, and black knee-length boots. She pulled on her scarf and proceeded to the door. Tears barely staying inside her.

Standing on the old, forgotten arch bridge and looking out towards the gray river was relaxing to the brunette. It was a reminder to her that no matter how time seemed to stand still, everything would still continue to flow. There would always be change, no matter how small or large.

The street was deserted, save for another man that was also looking out towards the river. He seemed vaguely familiar to Hermione. He was tall and lean, athletic. His face was chiseled and he was pale as paper. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were the most familiar thing about him. They were almond shaped and stormy blue-gray. The man was handsome, but there was a sadness to him that stuck even though he looked indifferent. r

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew and Hermione's scarf flew right off her neck and into the air, the navy blue a sharp contrast to the outlandish grey. The man deftly caught it in his hand before it flew towards the muddy river. Hermione ran up to the man who held her scarf, staring at it as if it had been an artifact of magic. It was a silly thought, of course, since this man was most likely muggle since his clothes, though undoubtedly expensive, was suited to blend in.

"I believe this is yours," The man said as Hermione approached. He looked at the scarf with such intensity that the girl felt as if it would burst into flames.

"Yes," She breathed. "Thank you."

He held out her scarf as his green eyes gazed intently at her face. He was studying her with a trace of familiarity. "I think this might be weird... but didn't you go to a boarding school in Scotland with me?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up at this. Hogwarts was in Scotland. And this man wasn't a muggle. That was sure. "I don't know. Which school?" Hermione shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. If this man would recognize her, he could tell it to the press and everything about her normal life today would vanish and crumble.

"It doesn't matter." the man sighed as he gave her one last long look.

"Oh..." Hermione mumbled. "Okay."

They both stood there in silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts, both captive of memories best left alone and unseen.

Hermione fingered the navy scarf and sighed quietly. It had been a long time since she stood with anyone and felt this much peace. It was refreshing. And yet, it somehow reminded her of days when all she did was sit on the Lake and reminisce.

"I... I should really go." She mumbled after a minute. The man looked surprise to find her beside him, as if he had forgotten that she was ever there. "Thank you so much for catching my scarf. This is one of my most treasured items."

Hermione began to walk away, but the stranger sighed and said, "A gift? From a boyfriend, or parent perhaps? People only treasure things that are given to them by the ones they love the most or the things they earned to get. You don't seem like the knitting type."

"Yes, I don't knit. But actually, it's from my ex-boyfriend." Hermione whispered at she glanced at the sky. It was almost colorless at this time of day. The kind of gray that hints of something beautiful and better to come. "And no, I don't keep this because he gave it to me. I have so little to remember the past that I cling to anything to remind me of it. It's a reminder too, not just a gift. That's why I treasure it."

"Then why run away then? Why runaway when you love the people in your past so much?" the man asked and for a split second, Hermione thought that he was referring to her particular episode in the Wizarding world, but then the man added. "You look lonely and... you just look alone. You wouldn't be alone if you hadn't run away or done something like that."

"I do love them still, you know." Hermione whispered, walking towards the way she came. "Sure, I left. But that doesn't mean that I stopped loving them."

The man was silent, as if contemplating what she said. Without another word, Hermione walked away, but she stopped when the man called out, "Xavier. I'm Xavier. Your name! I didn't catch it!"

Hermione smiled as she continued to walk, saying " I never gave it." She laughed. "But if you must know, it's Jean. Jean Wilkins."

**A/n; Thank you, Hplover143; HermioneSelene11; and Winterwood11 **


	4. Vulnerable

**A/n; Hey there! I really had fun creating this particular chapter =) I hope you'll like it,**

**Oh, and Thank you, HPlover143, you made my day :) **

* * *

_ Hermione,_

_ It's been a year since we last wrote to you. _

_ And years since you disappeared – I know that you haven't completely done so... you were at little James's baptismal, when Ginny first consulted about her pregnancy with Al, Luna's betrothal party with Blaise, Neville and Hannah's wedding, when Parvati threw a baby shower..._

_ Don't ask me how I know. Honestly? Putting a fake nose on doesn't constitute as a good disguise, even if you did dye your hair red_

_ But that isn't why I write to you._

_ I wrote to you because I want to ask your blessing._

_ I'm getting married, Hermione._

_ You know, I always thought that someday, you and I would stop being Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, and start being Hermione and Ron Weasley. For the longest time I've dreamed that someday, we would sit on a porch, holding hands and talking while our grandchildren ran around us, all of them with your eyes and my red hair. But I guess that I was wrong._

_ I'm getting married. There was a time after you left that I couldn't imagine reaching that particular milestone. I thought that when you left, my chances of seeing myself standing on a raised dais with a minister at my left and Harry by my side, waiting for the woman that I would spend forever with. But here I am, writing this invitation to you._

_ I didn't bother with the finery of those heavy invitations since you wouldn't like them anyway, so I guessed that I would write to you personally instead._

_ She's not as smart as you. She's not as kindhearted. She's not as perfect. But for me, she doesn't need to be all that. Months after you've told me to move on, I tried. I tried to find a girl_ like _you... but I never did. And I know that I never will. You will always be one of a kind. She's not you, Hermione... and no one will ever be. But she's... she made me realize that you were never meant to be with me. That perfect wasn't what I was looking for. That perfect wasn't what I needed._

_ I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. She isn't you, and she's definitely not an angel... she's human. And she's what I need._

_ I haven't asked her yet, because I needed to have your blessing. Ex-girlfriend or not, you were still my best friend._

_ You must be dying to know her name right now. Curiosity was always your strongest trait._

_ She's Pansy. Pansy Parkinson._

_ I know, I know. Shocking, right? But she _has_ changed, you know. She's different. War changed her too. She... She... she shoved it up my face that love doesn't need to be perfect... that it just needs to be true._

_ I can't even describe it. But I know that I want to spend forever with her._

_ So, will you give us your blessing?_

_I hope you'll come too,_

_ Ron_

As she finished reading the letter, Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly, even though she felt pain inside. Ron had finally moved on, just like she wanted him to.

But she couldn't help but feel a little cheated. After all, she was the one who loved him from the beginning.

* * *

Draco looked towards the pretty brunette that was seated on a bar stool 3 seats away from him for the nth time that night. She was incredibly beautiful and specifically familiar.

He was about to ask her her name when she laughed. And it was unmistakeable – Draco Malfoy knew that laugh. It was _Granger._

_ 'But the color of her eyes are off...' _he, focusing on drowning out the loud music that came from various speakers across the room.

After disappearing from the Wizarding world, he too, became aware that the brunette also took refuge in the non magical community. It had almost been two years since he disappeared and apparently, he wasn't the only one who was still M.I.A.

He looked at the paper he was holding and it read – "WEASLEY—PARKINSON NUPTIALS". He looked at her then and he couldn't see any sign of regret... there was just bitter defeat. Then he remembered. She had loved Weasley, even while they were in Hogwarts – how couldn't he notice? She was blatantly obvious and the thick idiot was just plain ignorant.

Abandoning all teachings that was ingrained to his very soul, he walked up to her and sat on the chair next to her.

"Mind if I sit?"

"No b- Malfoy?" Hermione stuttered as she appraised him with wide eyes.

"The one and only." He smirked and she rolled her eyes at this.

"You were the man I met on the bridge." Hermione said, confused. "But your hair. Why is it like that?"

"I had to do something to hide my gorgeousness. Otherwise, females would be all over me. And it's tiresome to be as gorgeous as I am." Draco pointed out. "And you changed too. I specifically remember that your eye color was the exact same shade of poop."

"Same as always, I see. Though how you can remember my eye color, I'll never know." Hermione said, shaking her head. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be in some tropical resort with bikini clad harlots surrounding you?"

"As much as I fantasize that, I can't. Pansy made me go back to her wedding."

"It happened yesterday, right?" Hermione said quietly, clutching the paper. "I saw it in the Daily Prophet."

"They said it was the most unlikely pairing of the century."

"True, that." Hermione nodded. Silence ensued for a few moments as both were absorbed in their own not-so-somber thoughts.

"You were there too, right?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Honestly? You had raven hair, but still the same face, except for the eyes. And you were never excellent in guises." Draco snorted as Hermione sent him a death glare."

"Jess told me that I looked completely different." Hermione mumbled. "I should never have trusted her."

"What?"

"Nothing." Hermione replied after taking another sip from her already half-empty glass.

Silence wrapped around them until Draco said, "Hey, Granger, how do you do it?" Draco slurred, his drink sloshing to and fro, after what seemed a millennium of silence.

"Do what, Malfoy?" Hermione grinned as she took a large swig, her hair bouncing slightly back and hitting the seat of the chair.

"Think that you're invincible. And come out just like it," The blonde said as he pointed a finger at Hermione. "You make everything seem easy. For heaven's sake! It's been two years since that witch left me for that middle-class man-whore and I'm still not over it."

"I do not think that I am invincible." Hermione stated. "What makes you say that I'm not over Ron?"

"Oh, believe me, Granger, I know you're not." Malfoy said as he took a large swig of his own drink. "But you don't show that you still love the twat. How?"

"I can't follow you, Malfoy."

"What I meant was, you don't seem affected at all by Weasley marrying Parkinson while I looked like a bloody rhinoceros spouting snot all over the place after Astoria ran away with Nott. Especially after their engagement was announced. Oh don't give me that look. I know that you still love him." Draco said, frowning at his almost empty drink. He snatched another one from a waiter and took a long swig, before saying, "How do you do it? How do you hide your feelings so well?"

"You're one to talk." Hermione said dryly. "Aren't you supposed to be the one who has a marble face of indifference?"

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. You know what I'm talking about. You have the emotional reaction span of a teaspoon!" Hermione exclaimed as she downed her own drink and proceeded to get another. Then, she muttered, "Now, why do I have the feeling that I've said that before?"

"I do not have the emotional reaction span of a teaspoon!" Draco said indignantly, crossing his arms. "Indifference just happens to be what I feel most of the time."

"Right."

"Fine, Granger, don't believe me. Just tell me how you do it. How do you fake so convincing smiles when you're obviously distraught?"

"I'm not distraught. Okay, maybe a little bit," She conceded, taking a sip from the fizzy liquor. "But that doesn't mean I can't be happy for Ron, he's been through a lot, he deserves to live happily. And those smiles weren't fake."

"You are such a goody-two-shoe." Draco said with a snort. He gulped down half his drink while the brunette raised a delicate eyebrow.

"I can't help it if I'm a normal human being, Malfoy."

"No, you're not normal. You're too perfect to be normal." The blonde concluded, pouting like a petulant child.

Hermione laughed as she finished half of her drink. "Did you just complement me? No, don't answer that, it doesn't matter. I'll take it as an insult."

"Whatever pleases you, oh nerd princess." Draco chuckled at his joke, the alcohol obviously taking its toll.

"Don't call me that. And if you're still curious about how I dealt with Ron, being nice is a good way to get what you want."

"Ooh, I never thought that you had that train of thought. Well, I don't care. Granger, tell me how." Draco said, leaning in, but of course, Hermione refused to back down and leaned in as well.

If you weren't an acquaintance or at least someone who knew them from Hogwarts, you would have ignored the sight since it was pretty common in places such as these. If you were one or both of the aforementioned people, you would have called St. Mungos and have the both of them, or even yourself, checked in the psyche ward.

It seems as if not one of the people of the club knew who they were.

"A little more polite."

"That's the politest thing I can manage!"

"Fine." Hermione muttered. Then she shrugged and said, "You just need to accept that she'll be happier with him."

She started to stand up, but Draco stopped her by placing his hand on her elbow and dragging her back to her chair. "That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Where did you learn that?"

"A muggle proverb – if you love the person, let them go, and if he or she comes back, then she's yours forever."

"You can't expect me to know that – I am a pureblood, after all – but Astoria was big on these things. What I don't get is why anyone would ever let a person go. If you really love them, then why not hold on?"

"Normal people learn why that is at an early age." Hermione sighed. "Sometimes, people just need to go."

"Muggles have a weird sense of love. But whatever. Now, It's my turn to return the favor."

"What? You don't need to. I don't consider that a favor." the brunette said as she started to stand up, but one again, Draco stopped her. In defeat, Hermione took a drink and proceeded to listen.

"Well, I do, and I hate being indebted. So, what do you want?"

Hermione shook her head, "I'm perfectly content and happy right now."

"Oh, really?" the blonde questioned, raising a silver eybrow.

"Yes,"

"Then why do I hear whispers about you going off into the muggle world trying to find yourself. And, in our current location, I think that that rumor is right."

"Can't witches go to muggle clubs now?"

"They can, but honestly, _you_?" Draco said, feigning disbelief. And, in all honesty, he was surprised too when he saw her when he entered the club.

"I see your point. I'm just here to enjoy and celebrate my best friends wedding in an inconspicuous way." Hermione pointed out. Since she was still technically M.I.A., she could not of course return. She promised not to go back until she found herself. And apparently, she didn't, yet.

"Yup, alone?" Draco smirked. His face turned boyish for a moment and Hermione was hit with all the memories of his torment and stay at Hogwarts. "I think that you're still unsuccessful with that little mission of yours and you're here to drown your sorrows in muggle wine and gin."

"So what, Malfoy? I don't think you can give me what I'm looking for."

"You're looking for yourself, right? So why don't you let me help you."

"What?" Hermione said, taken aback. "No."

"Come on, Granger, it will be fun."

"No. And are you really willing to do this just because I gave you a piece of advice that anybody could have given?"

"Yes, but since you're so keen, why don't we make a deal."

She pursed her lips, weighing on her options. "You really aren't going to drop this, aren't you?"

"Nope."

"Alright then," Hermione sighed in defeat. "Go on, I'm listening."

"I'll help you with the finding yourself thing... if you'll help me with something in return."

"What is it?" Hermione inquired, she took another shot of her drink.

"Heal me."

"What?"

"Just because I was hurt doesn't mean I should bleed." Draco said seriously for a moment, and then he gave her his most charming smile – the same exact smile that landed him bachelor of the year for 6 years straight even though he was with Astoria. "You seem to be very fond of the word 'what'. I need you to help me forget of that witch. I want you to heal me."

"How do I do that?" Hermione said incredulously, looking for all the world like she wanted to put the youngest Malfoy inside an asylum – preferably one on a deserted island where he can never get away.

"You're the smart one, figure it out." Draco smirked, remnants of the blinding smile still imminent on his rugged face. "Think about it, Granger, it's a win-win situation for both of us. You get to have fun with my love life. I get to have fun with your personal life."

"And how do I exactly win in that proposition?" Hermione asked, raising her left brow.

"I can help you find yourself."

"How?"

"Just trust me. I can be anyone – anything. I promise I can be the thing that you need."

"Isn't that a bit over the top?"

"For me? No. For the rest of the Wizarding community? Maybe."

"So, it's a deal then." Hermione reached out her shaking hand. She held her wand and tapped her hand and Malfoys. A small silver ribbon of light burst from the tip of her wand and connected their hands like handcuffs.

"What's this?"

"Promise Spell that I invented. Like the unbreakable vow, but much less fatal consequences if broken. Instead of death, you suffer from a broken heart."

"Very Imaginative and Original." Draco drawled and Hermione ignored him.

"I promise to help thee, Draco Malfoy, to heal his allegedly broken heart in any means that I can."

Draco took her hand, saying, "Please, Granger, Handshakes are too mainstream to seal a spell like that." He smirked and pulled her closer, alcohol lacing both their breaths.

She gasp as their lips made contact, but alcohol had deluded her senses and he felt so _good._ After the initial shock, Hermione became fiercer, wanting more. Draco, sensing this, coaxed her mouth open, licking her bottom lip for permission. She pulled him closer, taking that as a yes, Draco plunged his tongue inside Hermione's mouth and did a bit of tonsil hockey with her.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione said, a little dazed after they came up for breath.

"What, Granger, Kiss you?" Draco smirked, equally breathless. "I'm sure that wasn't your first... or was it?"

"You underestimate me." Hermione said defiantly, standing up and chugging the remnants of her drink down.

"Prove it." Draco challenged, leaning closer to her.

Hermione leaned closer, her face and her lips brushing against Draco's bruised pink ones. "Oh I will."

Then she turned around abruptly, swaggering around a bit. She was obviously drunk. Draco, meanwhile, looked dazed and confused. A moment passed before he regained his senses and stood up suddenly.

"Hey, Granger, is the deal still on?"

Hermione looked back, raising an eyebrow and looking incredibly sexy to Draco and probably the rest of the male population,"Of course."

**A/N; Sexy Hermione is _sexy. _Draco must be regretting all those petty words he belched out before. **

**Anyway, if you want to see Hermione's other sides, you can always click the button at the bottom, even if you don't have an account ;)**

**Oh, and Draco is begging you too... let's not upset our little hot ferret, *hint *hint *wink *wink**


	5. I'm Only Me When I'm With You

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry and the gang. Don't Sue me.**

**A/n: Thank you, HPlover143 for reviewing!**

**R&R! **

_I'm Only Me When I'm With You – 5_

_ Hermione came to her flat with a disgruntled sigh. Her feet hurt from wearing those really uncomfortable too tight flats and walking around all day. Her shirt was caked with all different kind of food from Chocolate cake to chocolate fondue. There was a party at St. Sophia's Home for Girls today and two of the volunteers didn't show, so she had to do everything double time. She also had to drive all the way from the city to Worcestershire to pick up a painting that was a donation for Knightsbury Homes. She was dead tired and her stomach rumbled like there was no tomorrow._

_ She dragged herself to her kitchen, where she was sure that there would at least be food in the fridge. She had done the groceries the other day, and she left everything in its proper place, just before she left to pick up Annie's cake and balloons._

_ But something was wrong. Her house smelled like lavender and vanilla. It was a specific odor that she had bought from a muggle store about 15 months before and had loved instantly. Today, the smell was that of spices, curry, and roasted nuts. Weird._

_ When she reached the Kitchen, she had almost knocked over an intricate lamp that stood on the corner in surprise._

_ "What do you think are you doing, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded as she crossed her arms, glaring at the man who was currently hunched over a plate that looked like it came from a cooking magazine._

_ "Wait." Draco said as his eyebrows knitted in concentration. He placed a single leaf on top of the plate and he looked up, grinning at her. "Hey Granger, long day at work?"_

_ "Well, yes." Hermione admitted, "But you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"_

_ "Cooking." Draco said, looking at her as if it was perfectly normal to barge into someones house and start cooking gourmet meals. "What do you think I'm doing?"_

_ "Breach of Privacy?" Hermione countered as she checked the boiling pots on her stove. "And how did you even find me?"_

_ "Honestly?" Draco drawled raising his left brow, "You're easy to find. You called yourself Jean Wilkins back then on the bridge, right? All I did was ask around in the area. Most of the shops and tenants knew who you are. A particularly old and groggy old lady pointed me here."_

_ "You still remember that day? You called yourself Xavier." Hermione snorted. She was referring to the day that they had met on the bridge. "And Lucille isn't a groggy old lady, she's just... feminine."_

_ "Feminine, my ass." Draco mumbled before saying, "I called myself Xavier because it's my middle name."_

_ "How did you even remember me?"_

_ "You left quite an impression." Draco shrugged, bending over to his dish. "I was bound to check you out. Oh, and why did you choose Jean Wilkins, anyway?"_

_ "Well, we have our reasons." Hermione said contritely, and she glared once more at the mercurial-eyed man. "But you still haven't given me any. Why do you suppose that I wouldn't use magic to kick you out?" _

_ "Because we're friends." Draco grinned as he stirred a cranberry-red soup. "Friends do all sorts of these kinds of crap. Believe me. I've read it somewhere."_

_ "Since when did we become friends?"_

_ "Since last week."_

_ "No... I don't remember being friends with you as a consequence in our deal." Hermione retorted, arms still crossed and glare still in place._

_ "Well, if I'm going to meddle with your life and you with mine, then we might as well be friends... or civil with each other." Draco shrugged as he pulled out a delectable tasting pie from the oven. _

_ "You could have backed down, you know." Hermione frowned._

_ "But that bloody spell you put on us didn't let me." Draco shrugged nonchalantly._

_ "No, I didn't." Hermione said, eyes widening in horror._

_ "Yes. You did."_

_ "Fine." Hermione said as she made her way to sit on the table. "But don't expect me to actually be nice to you."_

_ "I never did." Draco said as he put mounds of food on the table. "And don't expect me to be nice too."_

_End of Flashback _

It had been three years since that faithful and err... _colorful _dinner. And it had become Hermione and Draco's little tradition to have diner together everyday. They had distracted each other and slowly, they had rebuilt their lives. But their reason of being together was still far from being done.

Hermione smiled as she walked towards the bridge where they had unconsciously met at that day almost four years ago. It was another tradition of theirs. During completely random moments when they were both free, they would just go here and talk.

It was one of the only times Hermione could only truly relax. Everything was light and carefree during these times. Everything was how it was supposed to be.

"You're late." Draco smiled as she sat down on the bench next to him.

"Nope, I'm not." Hermione retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. "You're just early."

"Right." Draco grinned as he rolled his eyes. "So, how about taking a break?"

"What for?"

"Come on, Granger." Draco said, looking at her disbelievingly. "It's almost been a year since we had that deal but you still don't think that you can come back. I think that it's about time to have you return to the wizarding world. After all, who would put those two goons of yours into place? Surely, their heads must have grown larger than mine during these past three years."

"Don't bring Harry and Ron into this," Hermione scolded lightly as she observed the sky and its shifting clouds. "And what about you? I've become practically your mother, your sister, and your best friend this past year. I know for a fact that the amount of girls that you've been seeing dropped to almost zero in the past year. You're love life isn't faring as well as my search. That's for sure."

"It doesn't matter." Draco said as he pulled his eyes away from the shifting sky and looked towards his brunette friend. He stared at her in silence while she dreamily gazed at the sky. They remained like that for a moment before Draco finally added, "You can't help me – well, at least right now. Let's attempt to make your wish come true first before breaching into the subject of mine."

"I'm sure your love life is easier to fix than my _life_ all together." Hermione said softly as she drifted her gaze to two lovebirds huddled together in the cold.

"Believe me, my love life is more complicated than that." Draco said sadly, a trace regret and longing clearly visible in his mercurial eyes.

"Fine, if you want to fulfill my wish first, then by all means, do." Hermione sighed, knowing that a battle between words wasn't worth destroying the tranquil atmosphere. "But how long would this break need to be? St. Sophia's can't afford loosing one of the volunteers for too long. We're scarce enough as it is. Plus, Carmichael's just received about 5 new Seniors last week. They'll need help if they're ever going to sort things out with all the problems."

"Don't worry, I got them covered." Draco smirked. "You know, there are certain perks to being a billionaire's best friend."

"Money can't buy everything, you know." Hermione frowned, but still felt thankful to Draco for donating enough money to help the places where she volunteers.

"Yup, It can't buy you, for one." Draco teased as she punched him in the arm. "But it can buy you about two to three weeks worth of time."

"This is such an extravagant thing to do." Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I thought we were past doing the extravagant nonsense?"

"This isn't extravagant." Draco smirked, standing up and stretching his long lean arms. "This is a break. You haven't had one since... since... I can't even remember. You were always working or reading or being a nerd."

"Shut up. I took two days off last month." Hermione said indignantly, crossing her arms at him. He looked at her disbelievingly, his delicate pale brows raised up in surprise.

"You call going to France with me to help me with business a break? Seriously, Hermione, I thought we were done talking about the nasty habits of overworking?" Draco said as he shook his head at her.

"You took me to help you while I relaxed, and I did." Hermione said indignantly, her stubborn soul flaring.

"Yeah right." Draco whispered, snorting. "Come on, this will be fun, and you'll get your bloody wish fulfilled."

"Alright, I'll go with you." Hermione sighed. Draco grinned and out stretched his hand. Hermione smiled and took it, saying, "But on one condition."

"Fire on, oh bookishness," Draco said as he led her towards the end of the bridge. If you had told him fifteen years ago that the day would come that he would be holding Hermione Granger's hand right now, he would have sneered at you and told you that he could get her easy. He was really an idiot – but an adorable one – back then.

"I get to decide on what we do."

"As long as it doesn't involve ferrets and clowns, I'm all up for it!" Draco exclaimed enthusiastically, thrilled that he got Hermione to take a bit of time off.

"Are you?" Hermione questioned, a mischievous glint in her currently sapphire eyes. She only took her contacts off at her flat – even after four years of being declared missing, some people still looked for her. She was touched, of course, but it made her take precautions that would have been unnecessary if they wouldn't search in the first place.

"Are you doubting my skills, woman?"

"What if I am?" Hermione challenged, raising her left brow. Draco smirked at her, still holding her hand.

He pulled her close, his breath interlacing with hers as his mouth came dangerously close to her own lips. He whispered, "You'll regret it, then." And then he let her go, stalking off towards the end of the bridge.

When he was about to step off, he turned to her and shouted, "Dinner will be at my place tonight! See you then, beaver!"

**A/n: Reeeeevieeeeew! =)**


	6. Time Well Spent

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE.

"Hey, Granger!" Draco shouted through the throng of people. "Granger! Over here!"

"Draco!" Hermione said, smiling at the shop owner as he handed her a colorful bag. "Took you long enough."

Draco's hair was windswept, his clothes were askew, and his face was formed into a deep scowl, but he was still as handsome as ever. Some even whipped their heads around to stare at him. His pale face glowed under his chocolate hair as his ever luminescent eyes matching the overcast sky above.

His scowled even deeper as she promptly ignored him and started to chatter on. What was wrong with this woman? He had tried _every_ trick he had to look like a rugged angel consorting with mere mortals, just to get the naïve brunette to at least _notice_ him. But _no, _all she does is prattle on about some bloody idiot who was 'nice' and probably not half as good-looking as him.

"So, Phil asked me to go with him to this Concert at the Opera house, but -"

"You hate the bloody Opera." Draco grumbled. This ignoring him thing was a serious blow to his self esteem. It took him a month of haggling to get two weeks off her schedule and _she_ talks about _Gil._

Hermione turned, confusion evident in her delicate features. Then, she noticed Draco's scowl and his accusing eyes. Draco scowled even more as the pretty brunette let out a hearty laugh, patting him on his perfectly messed up hair.

"I'm sorry Draco." She cooed, still laughing. She ruffled his hair, making it look much more messier and rugged. "but if you let me finish, you would have heard that I gave the offer up because of our plans."

"So I'm being an obstacle to you now?" Draco pouted. "I'm fine if you blow off our plans for that Will guy. I'll just find another girl to take me around London and entertain me."

Hermione glared at him before playfully teasing, saying, "Honestly, you act like you're on your period. _I _don't even act like that."

Draco gave her one last glare, crossing his arms before opening them wide. "Fine, I'll tone down the sarcasm and general Malfoy-ishness. So, how do I look?"

"I knew you would be upset if I ignored the appearance." Hermione chuckled, pulling him into a coffee shop. It was old and weathered down, unlike the other establishments surrounding it. But it was cozy and Draco could see why she picked this spot.

"That didn't answer my question." Draco pouted as he pulled a chair for Hermione to sit on. Hermione, meanwhile, used to such gestured from her currently brown-haired friend, decided not to argue like the first few times Draco did this. The morning was too splendid to spoil with another tirade of Manners and Finesse from Draco.

"You look adorable." Hermione smiled, amusement in her eyes.

A skimpily-dressed waitress walked up to them as Draco glared at her, saying, "This" – he gestured towards his form – "is adorable? I think not." He crossed his arms. "It's more of a dashing and rugged look, don't you think?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, kicking him in the shin – which earned her his 'go-to-hell' glare – and nodded sarcastically, saying, "Yes. Yes, I think you're right."

"Uh..." the waitress coughed, staring at Draco. The girl looked so starstruck that Hermione pitied her. Most females had this reaction to her friend. It was amusing to watch sometimes, when they dropped food or stops in their tracks, but she sympathized with the ones who were rendered speechless and immobile. "You're order?"

"You do it, Granger." Draco said nonchalantly, blatantly ignoring another of his already numerous fans. "You're the guide, remember."

"Uh... right." Hermione muttered as she glared at the waitress who was now past the immobility and furiously trying to catch Draco's attention by flashing boobs every 5 seconds. The waitress officially moved towards the annoying division, where most of Draco's fans stand. "One Triple Chocolate Latte, one Caramel cappuccino, and two croissants, please. One vanilla and one Chocolate."

The waitress nodded absentmindedly, still staring at Draco. "What else, sir?"

Hermione glared, but Draco replied before she could open her mouth. "Actually, you can. Scratch the Caramel cappuccino, replace it with whatever she's having."

"But you _hate_ chocolate." Hermione protested, but the waitress was already leaving, flashing underwear as she swayed towards the Kitchen.

"I don't." Draco said, stone faced. "And you're obviously a regular here. You didn't even glance at the menus. Last time I checked, you never go out. Ever."

Hermione scoffed, glaring at him. "My dad and I used to go here. Every Thursday. It was our tradition. You're the first idiot that I brought here."

Oh," Draco paled, his stony expression suddenly softening. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Hermione shrugged, glancing at the kitchens where the waitress was currently peeking at them with another waitress, this time, a redhead. "Looks like you managed to snare another heart today. The waitress was cute, she would give you anything if you asked for it." Hermione smiled.

Draco's expression turned into offended and then a cold, unreadable one. "I'm not looking for that now."

"But you've been single for what? Two years?" Hermione snorted. "I think it's high time that you thought about dating. It's you're wish, isn't it? To forget? How are you going to do that if you keep flipping off every woman that shows interest in you?"

"Let's focus on your wish first, shall we?" Draco muttered.

"Fine."

"So, what did you have in mind?" Draco asked as the waitress brought their order, flashing more of her assets as she moved around. But he didn't seem to notice because his attention was focused so fiercely on the smiling brunette.

"It's a surprise, dummy." Hermione smiled as she finished eating her croissant. "Now, eat up, we have a long walk ahead of us."

"A bookstore." Draco snorted as they entered the old, faded and decaying building. "I should have known. We have two weeks and you decide to spend it in a cafe, making me eat gross insects and in a mangy bookstore."

"Be nice." Hermione chided. "This bookstore is as old as the other buildings in Diagon Alley. This is a place where no one ever comes to anymore."

"I can see why." Draco scowled as he dragged his pale finger across a dusty volume. "So do you mind explaining why we're here?"

"If you really hate this, then why don't you run off and meet up with your harlotts?" Hermione frowned as she walked towards the upper levels.

Draco snorted, running a little to catch up to Hermione. "Please, Granger." He said, running up the stairs. "If I could be anywhere – and mind you, I could – I would be there with you. Otherwise, who would I annoy?"

"Posh." Hermione mumbled as Draco caught up to her. "And we're not here for the books. They're too ancient to risk light reading. We're here for this."

Hermione pushed open an old wooden door. Quietly, she slipped inside, and Draco quickly followed suit, albeit with a little difficulty since the gap that Hermione created was only big enough to fit her comfortably.

"Wow." Draco breathed as they entered the room. In the center, there was a painting of a girl looking out into the sunset. Her face was tilted sideways, and she had a small smile on her delicate lips. Her eyes were sapphire blue, and almond shaped, and they were glazed, and a dreamy sort of ethereal beauty radiated off from her. The sky around her was gray, the kind of gray that was colorless. It was the kind of gray that hinted of other colors to come, that a happier time was to come. But it wasn't the swirl of colors that attracted Draco, rather, it was the girl herself which surprised him the most. "She... is that you, Hermione?"

"No," the brunette whispered softly. She stepped forward, bathing herself in the soft light that came from the window. She caressed the wooden frame carefully, her back to Draco. "The painting was made in the early 1900s."

"How did you know?" Draco asked, moving to stand next to her.

"It seems like a whole lifetime ago, but I remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday." Hermione said, smiling up at Draco. "It was Summer, and I think it was in our third year. Yes, I think it was. I remember telling him about the punching thing."

"Go on," Draco rolled his eyes, nudging her.

"We were walking down the street when Mr. Stravinsky, the old owner of this shop, went right outside and stopped us in our tracks. He was really old back then, about 90, but he was still strong and light. He walked towards us in his walking cane, staring at me like I was a ghost... in a way, I was. He invited us inside. He was so keen on showing us this room that dad almost made me go outside. But he persevered in the end. He showed us this painting, tears falling from his eyes with every word. Next to the war, it was the saddest thing that I ever saw."

"Come here, you." Draco muttered as he moved to hug the brunette.

"He told us about her." Hermione whispered. "Her name was Katarina du Ciel. She was the daughter of a pair of Aristocrats. Her mother was Russian, and her father was French, but she ultimately grew up in Russia, and she lived in the time where the Romanovs where still a great power in Russia. This painting was Mr. Stravinsky's master piece. He made it when he was 50, and still thinking of her." Hermione sobbed. "Their story is as cliché as it gets, but it's really true. He met her when he was 15 and was working as a Painter's apprentice in St. Petersburg. She had her portrait taken, as was fashionable for society girls to do back then. He told me that she was as snobby as snobs could be, but when he moved the sketch her, her eyes showed such softness and fragility that he couldn't help but get curiouser. He specifically described her as 'a doll, beautiful and perfectly crafted, but her emotions do not control her actions, because the strings that hang on to her are knotted too tightly to her delicate hands'. One thing led to another and soon enough, Katarina was persuading him to run away with her, especially since the revolts and riots against the Aristocrats were beginning to rise."

"What happened then?" Draco asked, really intrigued.

"He refused. He refused to leave since his craft and work was there. And he paid for it until his death. She was killed. And he never forgave himself for failing her. He moved here to London, and he stopped painting for a while, preferring to run this bookstore instead. But when he grew old, he painted her just as he remembered her. This was his last work."

"Woah." Draco muttered, looking at the painting with a new light. Suddenly, he understood the play of colors that was in them. The old man was still waiting for a new and better tomorrow, as was the girl. "But I still don't get why she looks like you."

"She's a distant relative." Hermione smiled. "I checked. Her father was the uncle of my Great-grandfather."

"Her eyes..."

"I know, it's the same shade as my contacts." The brunette said, moving towards the door. "She's the reason why I chose this particular shade of blue."

"What about Mr. Stravinsky?" Draco inquired, ruffling his hair and following suit. "What happened to him?"

"He died a year after I met him, but it was enough time for him to make me his heir." Hermione said sadly. "His reason was that I was his Katarina. And that she lives in me."

"So you own this bookshop?"

"Well, yes."

"Oh," Draco said, sniffing. "No wonder its falling apart."

Hermione laughed, throwing him a rag – which he caught deftly – as she opened the door into the London air. "I'm planning on fixing it up, but who has the time these days? The kids at the Orphanages need me more than ever and I think I volunteered myself too much."

"You only notice now." Draco snorted in disbelief as he threw the rag aside. "I've been trying to tell you that for the past two years."

"Okay, okay." Hermione said, raising her hands,

"So, where would we go to next?"

"What about Gelato?"

"It's cloudy and chilly, and you want to have ice cream?" Draco said, following her down the street.

"There's always time for gelato," Hermione smiled. She took his hand, pulling him forward as she sprinted off into a dash, "Come on, I know just the place."

"In all the places in London, why do we have to get ice cream here?" Draco complained as he sidestepped what looked like a dead cat's body.

"Because it's the best." Hermione whispered. "Just trust me, okay?"

"Fine." Draco grumbled. "But if my shirt gets ruined, you _will_ buy me another one."

"Alright." Hermione nodded, too happy to argue. "Just come on! We don't have all day."

"Well, if we hadn't stopped by that run down shack of a diner, we wouldn't have this problem and arrive here before lunch."

"Shut up. Lou was really nice to you."

"She thought that I was your 'beau'" Draco muttered, secretly flattered.

"She thinks every man I bring there are my beaux." Hermione frowned. "But she's nice enough."

"Every man?"

"Yeah." Hermione said nonchalantly. "I used to go there with some muggle friends. Though, I never brought anyone from the wizarding community there... well, maybe except Tristan."

"Tristan?" Draco inquired. His face was set in concentration, probably trying to remember if there was a Tristan in their class.

"You don't need to know..." Hermione sighed. Then, she perked up as the little Gelato shop came into view. "Oh look! They're still open!"

"Hey, Hermione! Wait up!" Draco shouted, running towards his brunette companion. "Who's Tristan?"

"No one." Hermione smiled happily, turning her back at him. "Now, choose the flavors that you want! I want Rainbow Chocolate, Cola, and Cherry Blossom, please."

"Cherry Blossom?" Draco asked in disbelief, peering at the selection warily.

"Yeah," Hermione smiled happily as the man behind the counter smiled at her. "It's wonderful, isn't it?"

"Hermione!" A man about the same age as they were emerged from the back of the shop. He had golden blonde hair and a pair of black rimmed glasses that rested askew against his also golden eyes. He had color-stained hands and a smile that almost gave Draco a run for his money. _Almost._ "It's been so long! How are you? And what have you done to your eyes?"

"Hale!" Hermione gushed, letting go of Draco's sweater and leaning over the counter. "I can't believe you noticed the eyes. They're contacts. I thought they would be a quirky little twist."

"What do you take me for?" Hale snorted. He moved closer and examined Hermione's eyes some more, wiping his hands with an already multi-colored rag. "Curiouser though, is that you'd choose the exact same shade as Ms. Du Ciel's."

"You caught me." Hermione smiled as she hugged him. His glasses became even more askew as they brushed against her hair. Hermione, meanwhile, hugged him like there was no tomorrow."I just had to."

"I understand." He beamed, hugging her with equal fervor. "But the natural shade of your eyes was more beautiful."

"Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder." Hermione chuckled, breaking the hug. "You know that."

"Of course." Hale smiled. "I taught you that."

Before Hermione could reply, Draco decided that he had enough of being treated like a lamppost and make his presence known. He coughed not-so-nondescriptly. And he flashed the mustard-haired freak (in his opinion, dull-eyed too) his award-winning smirk-smile. That won him the hearts of all those who preferred men (except Hermione, whom he thought was really a lesbian after the first few weeks, who was never really susceptible to any of his charms) and unnerved those who didn't.

Hale stiffened, eying Draco warily. He leaned over and extended his hand to Draco, saying, "Hello, I don't believe that we've met. My name is Hale Williams,"

"Draco Malfoy." Draco said, smirking now. He shook Hale's hands briefly, frowning at him slightly.

"Draco, come on, give your order." Hermione prodded as the man behind the counter handed her the ice cream. "Hale's creations here are to die for."

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes at her. " I've seen better."

Hermione slapped his forearm, glaring at him and saying, "Be nice."

"You two dating?" Hale said, raising an eyebrow and glaring stonily at Draco.

Draco answered an affirmative as he reached towards Hermione, pulling closer to him. Meanwhile, Hermione answered a negative and slapped Draco's hand away.

"Actually, we're friends" Hermione smiled. Then, Hale seemed to exhale in relief. It was Draco's turn to glare stonily at the blonde.

"I want Chilly Explosion, Fiery Fury, and Spice Grenade."

"Are you sure, Draco?" Hale said, his expression smug. " A man such as yourself may not be able to handle the spice. I recommend maybe Fairy Lace and the Children's special for you."

"Just give me the order." Draco said grimly. "Gold."

"Why, only a man who doesn't know its value would bestow it to someone he dislikes." Hale smirked. He scooped Draco's order and handed it to him. "Silver."

"No, actually, I gave it to you because I know that it would be inferior to me." Draco said as Hermione glared at the two of them and he took the

"I never thought that Gold was inferior to silver." Hale smirked, crossing his arms. He raised his eyebrows and glared at Draco stonily again.

This time, it was Draco who flashed his winning smile. "Actually, it's not silver. It's platinum. And I'm sure that you know that gold doesn't have the shine or luster that platinum does... but looking at you, I don't think you know that."

"That is enough!" Hermione said, glaring at the two of them. "Both of you stop this stupid game and at least _act _like adults!"

"Sorry," both of them said.

"Hermione, come on," Draco said, taking her hand and pulling her away, giving the golden haired idiot one last piercing glare.

Draco puked into the toilet bowl again, cursing everything and anything that had a trace of gold in them. The bloody ice cream would be the death of him if his reactions to it wouldn't stop.

"Draco, here." Hermione said, handing him a glass of milk. "It would stop some of the burning sensations."

"Thanks," Draco whispered, breathing unevenly, downing the milk in one go.

"You shouldn't order anything as strong again." Hermione chuckled, wiping the sweat from her friend's brow. Somehow, even if Draco had suffered hell and back, he still looked as if he was about to shoot for some topnotch ad. Typical.

"We should never go back there." Draco said, glancing towards the clock. It had read 5:00 and the sun was slowly sinking.

"You won't but I will," Hermione said defiantly. "Hale is a close friend, plus, he's a muggle. He's one of the few muggle friends I have left.

Draco grumbled a protest, but otherwise remained silent. Hermione helped him up and led him to the guest bedroom – which had effectively become his in the past two years – and set him on the bed.

"When you wake up," Hermione smiled, tucking him in. "Food will be ready."

"Stay." Draco mumbled, pouting petulantly, like a five-year-old child, but Hermione was already at the doorway, her petite frame silhouetted in the faint yellow light. Somehow, even if she didn't hear him, he knew that she would always be there.


	7. Fly With Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own Draco, he wouldn't be _our_ sexy Draco if I did. **

**A/n; **

**Thank you for the reviews! I do hope that you would give more thoughts about our pairing, since sexy Draco is waiting for them. Waiting for them in his boxers. Yes, imagine his snitch-printed boxers. Silver and Green. *Drools... The button is just down there, *winks**

**Anon, I love you more! Thanks!**

**Anonymous, Thanks for the whopping Reviews! And yes, I did get the names from Heist Society another wonderful novel that you should definitely check out, guys. **

**Neeme88, Thans for the cheering words! I didn't update supper soon, but hey, I updated! Hope that You'll like this chappie :D**

**Opposites: Awwww, thank you dear! You made my day)**

Fly With Me

"Draco," Hermione whispered. "Draco, wake up."

"Five more minutes," Draco grumbled burying his head in his pillow. "That's weird... this pillow smells like Hermione..."

"What a dope." Hermione muttered fondly as Draco started to babble about the complexity of her fragrance which was just her lavender shampoo and vanilla soap. She had grown to be Draco's best friend during the time when both of them had estranged themselves to the world that they had always known. Sweeping a lock of chestnut brown hair (he forgot to take off the spell last night) aside, Hermione thought back to all those moments when all she wanted was to kill this git, but thought that it wasn't worth facing charges, especially in her M.I.A. State. Their relationship not that you could really call it that had been rocky at first. She served as the reluctant party, but as much as she was reluctant, he responded with a stubbornness and perseverance to be her friend that was tenfold. And gradually, they started to call each other best friends something that she never thought Draco Malfoy and her would share.

Hermione stood up, sighing heavily. She went towards the Kitchen, recounting the recipe for Draco's favorite breakfast; Waffles with a special kind of batter.

Halfway through the cooking process, she felt a air of eyes trained on her back. Turning around, she saw Draco, hair all over the place and a lazy smirk present on his lips. "Morning," Draco said, yawning widely. He stalked towards the island where all the ingredients lay scattered. He reached towards the batter that Hermione was currently stirring and dipped his finger onto it.

"Good morning to you too." Hermione smiled as she slapped Draco's hands away, glaring at him. Draco, meanwhile, stuck his finger in his mouth, tasting the batter that she made.

He smiled at her, saying, "This combination is better. It just needs more salt. Try adding about a pinch more." Draco suggested, grabbing the salt and dumping some of it into the batter. Hermione glared at him before pointing the batter at him.

"No touching the batter again." Hermione said, clutching the materials closer to her. "Don't you have to worry about your appearance, or something. You know where the mirror is you can primp there."

Draco yawned, flicking his hand away in an uncaring gesture. He smirked lazily, resting his pale head on the table, "I look perfectly dashing like this. Don't you women love the whole rumpled-up-and-just-woke-up look? Besides, my body feels like crap from sleeping on that rock of a couch of yours.

"Hey, be nice to the couch." Hermione scolded as she poured some of the mixture into the mold. "It's perfectly fine and comfortable. It's your fault that you insisted to eat Hell-in-an-ice-cream-cone yesterday." Hermione huffed.

Draco rolled his eyes, smiling lazily as handed him the hot plate of waffles. Inwardly, he was delighted at the gesture Hermione only ever cooks for him, and he saw that as a good sign. Her cooking tasted like dinosaur pee the reason why she tolerated the general dinner and lunch-outs Draco threw regularly , but hey, he has to make sacrifices once in a while.

"So, what's our agenda for today?" He asked between mouthfuls of the gunk.

"About that," Hermione said as she tidied up her kitchen, "The kids down at Dr. Lightman's you know, the co-ed orphanage on Arlington St. are going to the zoo. Would you mind if we tag along?"

"But you're on vacation!" Draco complained. He had no qualms with spending the day with little tykes, but he does have issues with sharing Hermione. God only knows how much effort he put into planning these weeks off.

"They're short on volunteers today, so I told Sister Gabrielle that we could drop in,

"Why can't you just go on a break and not worry about everyone else," Draco grumbled, "But if you want to, then I can't see any wrong in spending a perfectly fine afternoon with little monsters who try their best at landing their food into your favorite sweaters."

"Draco," Hermione sighed, "You know that you can opt out of this. I'm not forcing you to go."

Draco looked defeated for a moment before saying, "You know I prefer spending my time with you rather than those dunderheads I call employees. It's work or the bar, and I definitely prefer you over both."

Hermione flashed him a grateful smile, turning back to her cleaning. Draco, meanwhile, continued to eat his food glumly, glaring at the brunette's blatant love for making him frustrated and pitting him in situations that madden him.

"Draco," Hermione said once she finished cleaning the counter tops. Then, she donned on her coat and grabbed her scarf, saying, "After you finish with that dish, put it in the dishwasher, and don't press any buttons you remember the last time you did that, right? It was utter mayhem. Plus, you turned your clothes pink. I'm going to go and do some errands. I'll meet you at the Zoo at about 2 o'clock."

Hermione was already at the kitchen door when Draco called out, "Hey! Wait!"

Hermione spun around, impatience evident in her tone. "What?"

"Let's visit mother later." Draco said, the words rolled off his tongue before his mind could even process what he was saying.

"Isn't she in the States?" Hermione inquired, baffled at the request for an audience something (although Narcissa quite adored her that was sparse because of all the traveling the elderly woman undertakes.

"She just came home last week," Draco pressed. "She would be delighted to see you, and I think talking to another person who actually knows what magic is would be a welcome change. She _is_ the only other person from the magical world besides me who you still keep in contact with, don't you?"

"Not exactly," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I write letters to Ginny and Luna."

"Just accept the dinner offer." Draco sighed as he picked at his food. "It would make us even if you do."

"Alright." Hermione said begrudgingly. As much as she loved Narcissa, she hated any form of dressing up and with Draco's mum, nothing less than a trailing evening gown would do. Hermione sighed heavily, no doubt the evening was going to be dramatic.

And she wasn't sure if it was going to be good or bad.

"Draco, you're late." Hermione frowned. There were two children beside her, one was a 6-year-old boy who had strange blue-green eyes and ruffled raven hair that would have Harry run for his money. Draco recognized him; he was the son of one of Hermione muggle friends. Bree, was it? His mother, if he could still clearly remember, was another volunteer here at the orphanage. The other child was a pretty girl that was about four or five. She had strawberry blonde hair and large tawny doe-like eyes. The boy, Gabe, was fiddling with a little toy airplane and explaining its parts to the blonde as the little girl sat quietly, licking her melting Popsicle stick.

"Hey there, little tyke," Draco smiled at the boy fondly. Gabe reminded him of himself when he was young cunning, debonaire and quite handsome. Gabe smiled at him, revealing small even teeth.

"Sorry," Draco smiled apologetically at Hermione, "but I needed to make arrangements at Madame Galveston's. You know that you can't show up into another dinner in jeans and a t-shirt."

"I had a cardigan on." Hermione said defensively as they started walking towards the general direction of the other kids.

"Still, it was too casual."

"Whatever, but that doesn't excuse you from being late. I explicitly said two o'clock." Hermione scolded as they neared the commons. "Because of you, Gabe, Halley and I had to wait and miss seeing the sights with the others."

"So, young lady, your name is Halley?" Draco ignored Hermione as he asked the five-year-old. He stooped low and leveled his face with hers, extending his pale hand, he said "Pleased to meet you."

The girl shook it shyly. Draco then noticed that the little boy eyed him warily. Little Halley must be a special gal if Gabe was reacting that way. Draco chuckled, this kid really had Slytherin written all over him even if indeed he was a muggle.

Draco stood up, still looking apologetically at the brunette. "So, where shall we go?"

"I want to see the penguins!" Gabe smiled widely as he took Halley's hand and led her towards the penguin exhibit. "Trust me, Halley, you'll love them. And this will probably the first and last time a girl as poor as _you_ would see them."

Hermione tutted as she moved towards the children, but Draco held her in place. She looked at him with question, but he just shook his head and gestured towards the children. Halley stopped in her tracks, making the Gabe lurch backward in the process. Tears sprung up from the little girl's eyes as she made the little boy let go of her hand.

"I hate you." Halley said with vehemence that vaguely amused Draco and certainly surprised Hermione. Halley pushed the boy and then proceeded to run towards the benches, leaving a shocked Gabe standing in the middle of the crowd.

"That is enough." Hermione said, trying to wrench her arm out of Draco's grasp, but his grip never dwindled. "I've had enough of those two fighting. They've been at it ever since they met."

"Wait." Draco said calmly. "Let's see what he does. Maybe he never had a chance to right anything he's done because we adults keep intervening."

"But I can't just stand here and let Halley cry! It's"

"Shut up." Draco admonished. "Look."

Hermione turned abruptly towards Gabe's direction. The little boy was staring determinedly at the little girl who was crying on the bench. He looked worried and scared, but stubborn at the same time. He seemed to make up his mind for a moment and then he set towards Halley's direction. The two of them watched as Gabe seemingly apologized and kissed Halley on the cheek, smiling sorry at her.

"Wow." Hermione breathed as the two children were now laughing on the bench. "He never did that for anyone before, unless of course Brielle forced him to do it."

"That's because he was never given the chance." Draco sighed. "You know, if those two sidekicks of yours never tried to keep me in a ten-feet distance away from you, I would've said sorry... you know, for everything."

"Really?

"No." Draco said sarcastically, making a face. "I would've kissed Weasley sorry."

"Ew." Hermione laughed, her whole face lighting up in the process. but thank you, for telling me."

"I really am going soft." Draco muttered snidely as he watched Hermione take the two kids towards the penguins. Smiling, he followed them just in time for him to ear Hermione saying,

"You know kids, penguins mate for life."

"Really?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "One they find their destined pair, they'll love each other forever."

"Are humans like that too?" Halley asked, her big eyes turning into saucers with surprise.

"No.

"How could you say that?" Gabe questioned. "I love Halley, and I don't think that will ever change."

Hermione laughed at the little toddler's frankness. Halley was one lucky girl.

"Because once upon a time, I met a boy and I loved him so much that the world revolved around the two of us." Hermione sighed as she pinched Gabe's cheeks. "I thought that he would be my penguin and that we would love each other forever."

"And then what happened?

"I needed to leave him because of things." Hermione said sadly. "So you see, humans don't necessarily love forever, it's just up to us to decide how long we can love."

"But you couldn't stop love, right?" Gabe said, his eyebrows scrunching up, "Mommy told me that."

"Yes, you can't." Hermione sighed wistfully. "But love can fade too."

"Do you still love him?" Halley said through unshed tears. "Do you still love the boy?"

"Well," Hermione started, her eyes glazed over in thought. "I used to think that I still did. That I was wrong for leaving, but then somethings changed and I forgot about it. So the answer to your question is, I still do, but not as much as before."

"So you don't stop loving a person, but you can start loving them less?" Halley said.

"So you can start loving them more, too." Gabe added, smiling brightly at Halley who smiled back at him with as much brightness.

Hermione chuckled then ruffled both their hairs, saying, "Now, come on, let's go find uncle Draco and make him get us something to eat."

Draco smiled at them as they spotted him a couple of meters away. "Hey guys, I take it that you're hungry?"

"I take it that you were eavesdropping?" Hermione shot back, eying him.

"Caught in the act," Draco chuckled, raising his arms. Somehow, he was sure that the 'Changes' that Hermione described pertained to him, and he couldn't help but feel giddy. Two years of work was finally paying off. If it meant Hermione and him could be HermioneandDraco forever, then he didn't mind waiting. It would be alright. "So, where do we go now?"

"Anywhere is fine," Hermione smiled, amused.

Peter Pan, the little cunning Slytherin, even kidnapped the muggle Wendy to get her. And they turned out fine.

He had the feeling that they too, would turn out alright.


End file.
